


Birthdays

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn and Ned celebrate all of their children's birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DKNC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKNC/gifts).



> This fic is a belated birthday gift for the lovely DKNC. I love all of your fics, and I hope that you enjoy this one!
> 
> I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or anything related to it.

_One_

They had everything ready now. They’d put new wallpaper up in the little bedroom: there were sleeping rabbits on it, clad in pajamas. The crib was set up too, across from the windows; the rocking chair stood in the corner, and the drawers were filled with neatly folded baby clothes. They were ready now, or as ready as they could be.

Catelyn liked to peek in at the room every so often as she went about her day. It didn’t look any different from hour to hour, of course, but it was exciting anyway. Every look was a reminder to her that in just about a week, she and Ned would be parents. They would have a baby.

She was looking in now when she heard Ned approach. She turned and smiled at him. “Hi.”

He smiled back, wrapping his arms around her middle. “Hi.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

It seemed that he’d asked that just about every time he’d seen her over the past nine months, but somehow Catelyn could never feel annoyed about it. She knew that he asked because he loved her, because he was every bit as excited about their baby as she was and wanted to do everything that he could for both of them. “I’m feeling fine, Ned,” she said. She waved a hand, taking in the room with her gesture. “Can you believe it’s going to be so soon now?”

Ned shook his head. “Definitely not,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like you just told me yesterday.”

“Sometimes I feel like that too,” Catelyn said. She laughed and patted her middle. “But sometimes I feel like I’ve been huge forever.”

“Well, you always look beautiful,” Ned said. He kissed her again. “Do you want to go sit down?” Catelyn nodded, and the two of them walked to their own bedroom.

Once they had both taken a seat on the bed, Ned pulled her close again. Since they had first started dating, Catelyn had always loved the way Ned held her; his arms were gentle and warm, and being in them seemed the most comfortable place in the world. Even now, when she felt more than a little ungainly and often quite sure that there was no position that would make her comfortable, that somehow still held true. She could cuddle up against Ned and feel entirely comfortable, entirely at ease in both mind and body.

The baby kicked then, under Ned’s hand. “Hello there,” he said quietly. “Your mom and I are very excited to meet you soon, you know.”

“Yes, we are,” Catelyn added, putting her own hand next to his. “Do you know that Friday’s supposed to be your birthday?” If someone had told her, when she first met Ned, that one day they would be doing this together, making one-sided conversation with their unborn baby, she probably wouldn’t have believed it. He’d been so quiet then; it was hard enough to get him to answer a direct question, let alone to talk to someone who was as yet incapable of speech. But once she’d gotten to know him…he wasn’t quiet now, not at home. Not when it was just the two and soon to be three of them, and she knew that there was no one in the world she would rather be having this baby with.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Oh, I can’t wait, Ned. I know it’s going to be, well, a ton of work, but I’m even excited for that. I can’t wait.”

“I know,” Ned said, one hand still resting on her belly, the other running through her hair. “I can’t either. And you’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

“You’re going to be a wonderful father,” Catelyn said. They kissed again, and then they sat quietly together for a while, arms around each other, the baby joining in with more kicks.

Friday was supposed to be the baby’s birthday, but he wound up showing up on Thursday instead, late at night. They named their son Robb; he was small and absolutely perfect, with blue eyes like hers and just a tiny bit of red hair. Catelyn didn’t ever want to stop holding him, and the only reason she did was to give Ned a turn. She found that looking at the two of them together filled her with joy too.

“He’s just so wonderful,” she said when Robb was back in her arms and Ned was sitting next to them. She felt vaguely as though she might have said it before. “I love him so much.” She’d said that before too, and the words really didn’t seem like enough.

But Ned just said, “Me too,” and he laid his cheek against hers as he leaned closer to look at their son. “Happy birthday, Robb.”

“Happy birthday,” she echoed. Robb yawned, and she hoped that he was having a happy birthday—that he would always be happy. As for herself, she couldn’t imagine ever being happier.

 

_Two_

Robb, at nine, seemed to feel himself very above the whole thing. “You don’t even do gymnastics,” he kept telling Sansa. “You can’t even do a cartwheel.”

“Robb,” Catelyn said.

“You can’t even do a somersault.”

“Robb,” Catelyn repeated. “Leave your sister alone.”

Sansa, however, seemed totally undeterred by Robb’s comments. “I love gymnastics,” she said. “And my birthday party is going to be the best ever.”

Secretly, Catelyn wasn’t at all sure what that meant in this context. Sansa’s birthday party, it seemed to her, was going to be exactly like every other birthday party they’d gone to this year. A gymnastics studio had opened up in town during the summer; they offered birthday parties, and it seemed that every girl in the first grade had taken them up on the offer. But she supposed it didn’t matter, really; they seemed to have a good time, and if Sansa wanted to have her seventh birthday party there, it was her birthday and her choice. They were all set for the party, which was tomorrow, now; this morning, Ned had picked up the cake with girls in pink leotards cartwheeling across a surface of white frosting, which now sat in its box on the counter.

They were finished with lunch now, and Catelyn sent the older kids off to play while she put Bran down for his nap. Just after she had shut the door to his room, she heard what sounded like a loud thump from the playroom. She hurried towards the room, worried that one of the kids might have fallen, but then she heard Ned’s voice.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Practicing.” It was Sansa’s voice.

“Practicing what?”

“Somersaults,” Sansa said. “Robb says I can’t do one. But I’m going to do one at my party tomorrow. See!” A pause, then another thump.

“Careful there.” Catelyn had reached the playroom by now, and she stood in the doorway, watching her husband help their daughter up. “Be careful with your head, sweetheart.”

“It’s hard,” Sansa said. She paused again, biting her lip. “Could you help me practice, please, Daddy?”

“Of course,” Ned said. “Here, let’s try this.”

Catelyn didn’t think that either of them noticed her watching; they were both so intent on what they were doing. Ned used his hands to brace Sansa at first, gently pushing her through the somersaults. “You’re getting really good at this,” he said after a bit. “Want to try by yourself?”

“Okay,” Sansa said. “But you’ll watch, right?”

“I certainly will,” Ned said.

Sansa’s solo somersaults were a bit of a challenge for her at first, ending in more thumps and Sansa’s biting her lip again. Ned put an arm around her. “I know you can do this,” he said. “Do you want to try one more time? Or would you like to take a break and play something else?”

Sansa thought for a moment. “I want to try again,” she said.

Her next somersault actually got her all the way around, although it ended with her flopping onto her side. She gave Ned a big smile, though, and immediately got up to try again. And when Sansa finally did a perfect somersault, a few minutes later, she couldn’t stop jumping up and down.

“I did it, Daddy!” she shouted. “Did you see me?” And she did another somersault.

“I did,” Ned said. “You’re great at somersaults, Sansa. I knew you could do it.”

“I’m going to do ten somersaults at my party tomorrow!” Sansa exclaimed. She turned then and saw Catelyn standing in the doorway. “Mommy!” she said. “Daddy helped me do a somersault! Watch, please!”

Catelyn watched as Sansa did yet another somersault. “Great job, Sansa!” she said. “That looks really good.”

“I can’t wait to show everyone!” Sansa said. “Thank you for helping me, Daddy.” She gave Ned a hug. “I’m going to show Robb that I can do a somersault after all,” she said, and she trotted out of the room.

Ned smiled at Catelyn. “Well, she’s happy.”

“She is,” Catelyn said. For that matter, she couldn’t keep the smile off her own face. “You really made her day.”

“Well, it’s her birthday, after all,” Ned said. “What kind of dad wouldn’t help his daughter do a somersault for her birthday?”

Catelyn laughed. “There are probably dads who wouldn’t,” she said. “But our kids wouldn’t know anything about that.” She kissed his cheek. “They’re pretty lucky kids, having you.” Ned didn’t answer her in words, but his face told her all she needed to know. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist.

The next day at her birthday party, Sansa did a series of perfect somersaults across the floor, and Catelyn interlaced her fingers with Ned’s as they smiled at each other.

 

_Three_

“Please,” Arya said. “Please, it’s the only thing I want for my birthday. The only thing I want in the whole world.”

Catelyn sighed. “Arya, you’re only turning ten years old. It’s rated PG-13 and—”

“It wouldn’t scare me!” Arya protested. “I know it’s only a movie. It’s not real.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s appropriate for you,” Ned said. “It’s supposed to be pretty violent.”

“I like violence,” Arya said. When Catelyn gave her a look, she quickly amended that to, “I mean, I don’t mind violence,” and then, after another second to, “I mean, I mind it, but I’m not scared of it in movies.”

“Well, we don’t let you watch violent movies,” Ned pointed out. “So how do you know whether you’re scared of them or not?”

“I just know I’m not,” Arya said. “I think you should let me see it. Please?”

“What is so special about this one movie, Arya?” Catelyn asked.

“Well, first of all, it’s going to be my birthday,” Arya said, “and it’s the only thing I’m asking for, like I said. And second of all, it would be very inspiring to me, because Katniss is an amazing character. And she does archery and I do archery, and the movie looks really really good, and you would even be going with me so if I did get scared, which I won’t, we could just leave right then, and Katniss volunteers for the Hunger Games to save her sister and you’re always saying that it’s really important that the five of us help each other out so it’s not just a movie about violence, it has good values.”

Catelyn almost laughed at Arya’s rambling list of reasons that she should definitely be allowed to see _The Hunger Games_ for her birthday, and she bent her head over the dish she was washing until she could make her face serious again. “We…will think about it,” she said. “Here, dry this last dish and then go work on your homework. Dad and I will talk about it.”

Arya seemed to interpret this as closer to a yes than to a no; she let out a whoop. “Thank you!” she said, drying the dish quickly. “Thank you so much! I’ll go do my homework right now.” She was grinning as she left the kitchen.

Catelyn turned to Ned. “What do you think?” she asked.

“I’m of two minds,” Ned said.

“Me too,” Catelyn said. “I can tell she really wants to see it, and there were some good points in that speech of hers. But I’m just not sure if she’s old enough. I don’t want her going in excited and winding up having a miserable time.”

Ned nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “Do we know anyone who’s seen it yet? Someone who could help us gauge it a little better?”

“I’ll ask around,” Catelyn said. “Or we could read the book—that ought to give us a decent idea, although you can never tell how close an adaptation’s going to be.”

Ned read the book, and Catelyn talked to Maege Mormont, who’d been to see it with her older daughters, and eventually they decided that yes, Arya could see _The Hunger Games_ for her birthday, if it really was what she wanted. She screamed when they told her. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best mom and dad in the world, you really are!” She tried to hug both of them at once.

“Well, we hope you enjoy it as much as you think you’re going to,” Ned said.

“I definitely will! Thank you!”

“And if it does scare you,” Catelyn said, “you can tell me and we’ll leave. And there’s no shame in that.”

“I won’t get scared! It’s going to be so amazing!”

And so, early in the afternoon of Arya’s tenth birthday, Catelyn and Arya sat in the movie theater together, waiting for _The Hunger Games_ to start. Arya was practically bouncing up and down in her seat. She fidgeted through the trailers, clearly impatient to get to the movie proper, and once it started she never, as far as Catelyn could tell, looked away from the screen. As for Catelyn herself, the movie wasn’t entirely her cup of tea—while Arya might claim to “like violence,” Catelyn didn’t really enjoy watching children killing each other. But it wasn’t the worst way she’d ever spent an afternoon, and if Arya was enjoying her birthday, that was what mattered.

“Well?” Catelyn asked as they left the theater. “Did you like it as much as you hoped?”

Arya nodded quickly. “It was so good! Katniss is amazing.”

“Yeah, she’s a great character,” Catelyn said.

“And I wasn’t scared at all,” Arya added. “I said I wouldn’t be and I wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Catelyn said. “It would have been a shame if you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I did enjoy it,” Arya said. “So much! Thank you for taking me.”

Arya talked on about the movie in the car on the way home and retold the story to her siblings once they got there, and it wasn’t until they were halfway through dinner that Catelyn noticed that something was wrong. Arya hadn’t exactly become quiet, but there were moments when she didn’t seem to have her mind on the conversation, and when she did talk, something sounded unnatural. She caught Ned’s eye; he’d noticed it too.

“What’s wrong with Arya?” Ned asked her after supper.

“I don’t know,” Catelyn said. “She seemed to be having a good time at the movie this afternoon. She said she wasn’t scared—although lord knows I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had been.”

“Do you think maybe she really was? She doesn’t always like to admit these things.”

“Maybe.” Catelyn considered. “It didn’t seem like she was, though. I’ll try talking to her.”

Arya was sitting on the couch, looking at a book her siblings had given her for her birthday. “Hey there,” Catelyn said, taking a seat beside her. “Has it been a good birthday?”

“Very,” Arya said. But she was biting at her lip.

Catelyn tried Ned’s idea. “You know, Arya, if the movie did scare you, you can say so. I thought some of it was pretty scary.”

“It didn’t!” Arya said. “I swear.”

“Is there something else bothering you, then?” Catelyn asked. “You can tell me, sweetheart.”

Arya looked up. “I wasn’t _scared_ , only…it was really sad about Rue!” she blurted out, and then she started to cry.

Catelyn wrapped her daughter in a hug. “Oh, Arya,” she said.

“I just…why did she have to die and…” Arya sniffled hard. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m being such a baby.”

“You’re not being a baby,” Catelyn said. “There’s nothing wrong with a movie making you cry. It was very, very sad, and it’s completely normal to cry when a movie makes you sad.”

“I was…I was afraid if I told you you would think I wasn’t old enough to see the movie after all,” Arya said.

“Well, I don’t think that,” Catelyn said. “Even adults cry at movies sometimes.” She patted Arya’s back. “But at the same time, if you felt like you weren’t old enough to see a movie, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with that either. If you’d wanted to stop watching, that wouldn’t have meant that you were being a baby.”

“I didn’t want to stop watching,” Arya said. “I did like it…That part was just really sad.”

“I know,” Catelyn said, and they talked about the movie for a while more before it was time for Arya to go to bed.

 

_Four_

Bran wasn’t one to demand a lot. None of their kids were overly demanding, Catelyn hoped, but when there was a loud voice in the Stark household making a desire known, it was probably the least likely to be his.

She didn’t want that to mean that his desires got ignored, though. His birthday was coming up at the end of the month—he was going to be nine—and she and Ned sat down with him after dinner one night and asked him what he wanted to do. “I’m not sure yet,” he said, looking thoughtful. “I’ll think about it.”

“That sounds good,” Ned said. “You let us know when you have an idea.”

But his idea, when it came, wasn’t quite what they’d expected. Bran asked them, later that week, if, for his birthday, he could have an adventure.

“An adventure?” Catelyn asked. “Like what, Bran?”

“An adventure,” Bran repeated. “Like in a book or something, where they go somewhere new and discover something. I mean, I don’t know if I can really discover anything, but something like that. You know.”

Catelyn did not know, and from the expression on Ned’s face she guessed that he didn’t either. But Bran was smiling at them so hopefully that she didn’t want to come right out and say that. “You want to go somewhere new?” she tried. “And do something…different? Exciting?”

Bran nodded. “Yes. That’s right. If it’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Ned said. There was a pause, while Bran beamed and Catelyn and Ned exchanged looks. “Any other thoughts?” Ned asked. “About the kind of adventure you’d like?”

“No,” Bran said. “It’s supposed to be…unexpected.”

After Bran had gone off to his room, the two of them turned to each other. “Well, he’s certainly set us a challenge,” Ned said. “How exactly do we come up with an adventure?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Catelyn said. “Something like in a book, he said. But we don’t exactly have magic or a desert island lying around here.” She sighed. “We have to try though, Ned. He’s not asking us to be difficult, after all.”

“I know,” Ned said. “We have a couple weeks. Let’s…let’s each think for a bit and then compare notes.”

“That sounds good,” Catelyn said. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

Ned reached out and laid his hand on hers. “Of course we will.”

“It can’t be so difficult,” Catelyn said, “coming up with an adventure.”

_Famous last words_ , Catelyn thought ruefully later that week. All of the kids were asleep, and she and Ned were lying side by side on their bed, trying to think of something. Of course, there were places that you could go to have an adventure—theme parks, those places that let you go rope climbing in the woods or that sort of thing. But they didn’t seem quite right. There didn’t seem to be anything unexpected about them.

“We could do some kind of outside thing,” Ned offered. “Camping?”

Catelyn gave him a look. “You want to take five kids camping?”

“Probably not,” Ned said. “Your turn, then.”

“We could…make up some kind of treasure hunt?” Catelyn said. “Give him clues and have him look for something?”

“Maybe,” Ned said.

“It’s all right if you don’t like it,” Catelyn said. “I’m not terribly excited about it myself.” She sighed. “This really shouldn’t be so difficult, should it?”

Ned sighed himself, but then he kissed her cheek. “We shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves. It’ll come to us.” He still looked frustrated, though. “I want him to have a good birthday.”

Now it was Catelyn’s turn to say something reassuring. “We both do,” she said. “And I know he will, Ned. You’re right, it’ll come to us. Probably when we least expect it.” She wasn’t sure how much she believed her own words, but saying it helped a bit; Ned looked a little happier, at least, and she felt more confident herself. “Let’s not agonize over it any more tonight, anyway.” She snuggled up against him then, and they talked about other things.

There was a week left before Bran’s birthday, and Catelyn and Ned were still trying to come up with a plan. They didn’t live near any mountains to climb or any places where you could sail a boat. There weren’t any wizards in the area that they knew of, and they couldn’t think of a way to make Bran the heir to a throne on such short notice.

“Maybe we should make him come up with it by himself,” Ned half-joked. “In adventure books, the parents are always missing or dead. They never have to plan things out.”

Catelyn groaned. “That’s the whole trouble. Kids in adventure books are always on their own. But we can’t just abandon Bran in the wilderness.”

And suddenly Ned was smiling. “There’s an idea.”

“Ned!” Catelyn said. “He’s nine years old. Don’t joke about that.”

“No, I don’t think we should abandon him in the wilderness,” Ned said, “but what if we…”

Robb agreed as soon as they asked him, saying it sounded like it would be a lot of fun and he was sure that he could keep things under control. Sansa had a million suggestions for ways they could make it more like a book, Arya was ecstatic, of course, and while Rickon was still a little young to be let into the secret, he always enjoyed getting to join his older siblings when they did something fun. And Catelyn and Ned were happy too: they’d come up with something at last.

They all got up early on Bran’s birthday, Catelyn and Ned piling the kids into the car. “Close your eyes,” Ned instructed Bran. “It’s a surprise, where we’re going.” Bran closed his eyes—and it seemed like he actually kept them closed for the entire car ride—with a smile on his face.

They stopped at the woodsy area over by the high school; they’d picked it because it was far enough away from their home that it wouldn’t seem too familiar and close enough that the kids wouldn’t actually get lost. The kids climbed out of the car, and Catelyn handed them the bag that she and Ned had prepared. It had some practical items—a map, a compass, snacks—and a few more fanciful ones, like an explanation of the quest that the kids were allegedly going on, a quest in which Bran was to take the leading role. It would lead them back to the house eventually, but they would have the full morning for adventure and exploring.

“Have a wonderful time,” Catelyn said. She made a discreet gesture to Robb, reminding him that he was supposed to call her and Ned if they needed anything, and he nodded in confirmation before she and Ned drove away.

When the kids got home around lunchtime, they were all grinning, but no one looked as happy as Bran. “Well, Bran?” Ned asked. “How was your adventure?”

Bran hugged them both. “It was wonderful.”

 

_Five_

It was a struggle, sometimes, to figure out what to do for Rickon’s birthdays. He would have trouble deciding what he wanted. Sometimes he said that he wanted to do exactly what one of the others had done—he especially liked to emulate Bran, since Bran was close enough to his age to be a playmate to him but old enough that Rickon looked up to him—and that could lead to accusations of copying. And sometimes he got frustrated, exclaiming that his siblings had taken all of the good ideas already and that he never got to come up with his own thing. It was harder for him, Catelyn knew, with four siblings to follow.

This year, though, Rickon was ready. “I have my own idea this time,” he said, when Ned and Catelyn asked him if he’d thought about what he would like to do for his birthday, “and it’s going to be so good. Better than anyone else’s birthday.”

“It’s not going to be better than mine,” Arya said. They’d been on vacation on Arya’s last birthday; it had turned out that one of her favorite soccer players was staying in the same hotel, and she’d managed to get an autograph. She hadn’t stopped talking about it since.

“That was an accident, so it doesn’t count,” Rickon said. “I’m going to have the best idea for a birthday.”

“So what is your idea, Rickon?” Ned asked.

“My idea,” said Rickon, “is that we should get a dog.”

There was an outburst of reactions from the other kids. “That actually is a good idea!”

“Good one, Rickon.”

“Oh, please, can we?”

“We’d be old enough to take care of it now…”

“Absolutely not,” said Catelyn.

“We’re not getting a dog,” Ned added.

The kids all looked at them as if they’d betrayed some promise, which they most certainly had not. “But it’s my birthday!” Rickon said.

“Yes, your birthday is coming,” Catelyn said, “and you can make requests for gifts within reason. A dog is not within reason.”

“But why not?”

“We’ve talked about this before,” Ned said, “and all of you know that perfectly well. You say that you’d take care of it, but we all know that your mother and I would end up taking care of it. And there are seven people in this house and there’s no room for a dog.”

“That’s not fair,” Rickon said. “Just because there are five of us we never get to have any pets?”

“You don’t get to have big pets like a dog,” Catelyn said. “If you want you could get a goldfish.”

This prospect plainly did not excite Rickon. “I don’t want a goldfish.”

“Well, since there are five of you we don’t need a dog,” Ned said. “You have each other to spend time with.”

The kids groaned loudly at Ned’s comment, Rickon the loudest of all. “It’s not fair,” he repeated. “I had the best idea for my birthday and you won’t let me do it.”

“I’m sorry, Rickon,” Catelyn said. “We can’t get a dog, but we do want you to have a good birthday. Can you come up with another idea?”

“I’ll try,” Rickon muttered.

Three days later, Rickon had yet to come up with another idea, and he was still in rather a sulky mood. Catelyn wasn’t sure just how much of the sulking had to do with not getting a dog; some of it might also have had to do with having had to go to the dentist after school that day. That was over now, though, and as the two of them walked into the house, Catelyn heard the other kids laughing.

“Did you see? Did you see?” Arya’s voice. “Oh, she is so _smart_!”

“She _is_.” Sansa. “You are smart and sweet and beautiful, aren’t you?”

“Who’s a good puppy?”

At the word “puppy” and an unmistakable bark, Catelyn started towards the voices, but Rickon was faster than she was. “A dog!” he exclaimed. “We _are_ getting a dog after all!”

“No,” Catelyn said as she entered the family room. “We definitely are not.” But a dog was there. A small dog—small at the moment, anyway—but a dog all the same. A husky puppy lay on the rug, surrounded by the children, all of them looking up at her with pleading faces. “Robb,” Catelyn said, singling out her oldest and theoretically most responsible child, “what is that dog doing here?”

“She was in the yard,” Robb said.

“Bran and I found her,” Arya put in.

Bran nodded solemnly. “She was all by herself in the snow.”

“They couldn’t just leave her, Mom,” Sansa said. “So we brought her in to take care of.”

“Forever!” Rickon exclaimed. “For my birthday.”

Catelyn sighed. Sansa was right—they couldn’t just leave a puppy outside when it was this cold—but if they kept the dog in the house for even a day or two, the children would never want to let her go.

“We are going to keep her, aren’t we ?” Rickon asked.

“Please, Mom.”

“We found her. And she’s so smart.”

“We could take such good care of her.”

“It would be really fun.”

“Kids, you know we can’t keep her,” Catelyn said. “She can stay overnight, and we’ll look for the owner.”

“But what if there isn’t an owner?” Arya asked. “She doesn’t have a collar or anything.”

“We’ll put out ads,” Catelyn said, “and we’ll see if she has a microchip. And if we can’t find the owner we’ll find a good home for her.”

“But this would be a good home for her!” Bran said. “Please.”

“We don’t have the room,” Catelyn said. “She’s little now, but she’ll get big. I’m really sorry, but we just can’t get a dog.” She didn’t think that any of the kids were listening—they didn’t want to believe her words—but they would have to sooner or later. Ned would back her up when he got home.

“Dad, we got a dog!” Rickon shouted the minute Ned walked in the door.

“What?” Ned looked over at Catelyn.

“We did not get a dog,” Catelyn said. “Arya and Bran found a puppy in the yard and we are keeping her overnight. I’m already calling around to look for the owner.”

“She’s the best dog in the world!” Rickon continued. “Look at her, Dad!” Arya, who was carrying the puppy in her arms, held her out for Ned to look at.

Ned took a look. “She looks like a good dog,” he said. “But we really can’t get a dog. Your mom and I already told you that.”

The kids didn’t listen to Ned any more than they had to her, and dinner table conversation consisted of Things We Can Do With Our New Dog and What We Will Name Our New Dog and Whose Bed Our New Dog Will Sleep On and How Exciting It Will Be When We Tell Our Friends About Our New Dog, occasionally interspersed with We Do Not Have a New Dog and That Dog Is Not Staying Here. Afterwards, the kids played with the dog until Ned and Catelyn insisted that they go up to bed. When Catelyn had seen that they were all truly in their rooms, she went back downstairs.

Ned had gone down a little ahead of her, and she heard his voice coming from the living room. It was quiet, but the words were unmistakable. “You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you?” And when Catelyn peeked around the door, she saw him kneeling on the floor beside the puppy, rubbing her belly while she wriggled happily.

“You traitor.”

Ned started. “Cat! I…didn’t hear you coming.”

Catelyn had to laugh. “I could tell.” She moved to sit on the couch. “So you want to keep her?”

“We shouldn’t,” Ned said. The puppy licked at his hand then, and he grinned and started rubbing her belly again. “But she is a great dog.” The puppy licked his hand again. “Yes, you are a great dog.” He was almost cooing.

“Since when did you become so demonstrative?” Catelyn asked.

Ned turned away from the dog then, laying a hand on Catelyn’s cheek. “You think I’m not demonstrative?” he asked jokingly, before leaning in to kiss her.

“Alone with me you are,” Catelyn said. “But usually not with strange dogs. Do you think I should be jealous?”

“Absolutely not,” Ned said firmly, kissing her again. “You come first. And you’re right. We’re not keeping the dog.”

Catelyn knew that Ned meant what he said. She knew that the kids would have to listen if they told them that they couldn’t keep the dog. And she also knew, as she called around to shelters the next morning, that she was just going through the motions. Every time that she heard the kids laughing as they played with the dog, she knew it. Every time that she heard Ned start to coo to the dog and then guiltily cut himself off, she knew it.

All of the kids screamed in excitement when Catelyn and Ned told them that they could keep the dog, but nobody was more excited than Rickon. “So we _were_ getting a dog all along!” he said. “And you just wanted to surprise me for my birthday!”

“Not exactly—” Ned began, but the whole thing seemed too complicated.

After the kids had gone off to decide what to name the dog (everyone had a different idea), Ned turned to Catelyn. “Well, this should be an adventure.”

“Like I told you,” Catelyn said, “if the kids aren’t good at taking care of her, it’s all you. You’re the one who fell in love with her. Not that I don’t like her too,” she reassured him as he looked at her anxiously. “But I think you love her even more than the kids do.”

“She’s a great dog,” Ned said. “I wouldn’t say that I’m ‘in love’ with her.” Catelyn laughed. “Should I tell you who I am in love with?”

“Please do,” Catelyn said. “That sounds very interesting.”

Ned opened his mouth to speak, but then he stopped and shook his head. “No, I won’t tell you. The kids are completely busy with the dog, right?” Catelyn nodded. “Then come upstairs with me, Mrs. Stark, and I’ll show you instead.”


End file.
